


Kinktober: Begging

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [24]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Begging, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Sitting, Hand Jobs, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Reyja likes to make Julian beg sometimes.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697680
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Kinktober: Begging

Julian tries so hard for me. No matter what we’re doing, from keeping the clinic on schedule to organizing our finances to making sure he’s getting enough sleep to, of course, being good when I ask him to be, he throws everything he has into it, earnest and eager, desperate to please. But even he has his limits. Usually I don’t push them; after all, he deserves to be rewarded for his efforts. Every so often, though, the way he begs for me is so intoxicating I just have to indulge myself.

And I know how to make him beg. He’s nothing if not responsive to my ministrations, revealing all his weaknesses like a monologuing villain in one of the melodramas Coulter tends to stage at the low point in the theater season. It’s no wonder my Jujubee usually gets those parts.

Tonight, I want to hear him. The neighbors are gone for the winter and it’s been a few days since we got to have any fun, now that Patova’s children are coming down with their seasonal flus and coughs. Both of us feel the stress of all the worried parents milling around the clinic. Both of us need to relax.

Isn’t it lucky that we both relax the same way?

Julian’s absolutely delicious when he arches his back, crouched on his hands and knees sideways across the bed. Every muscle is clenched, carving sharp lines of tension in his long legs, knotted like tree bark along his massive shoulders. He’s so beautiful, for a moment all I can do is touch him, skate my hands over his sides, feel his ribs expand with each gasping breath, until his whole gorgeous body shudders and he flexes, reversing the curve of his spine.

“Darling,” he moans, stretching out the word. He curls his hands into the bedding and I hear his knuckles pop. “Darling, please! I need you!”

I take hold of his narrow hips and straighten him up, smiling to myself when his cock jumps at my touch. “I know you do, Juley. Look at you, being so patient.”

His whimper disappears into his wrist as he bites down on it. I know if I could see his face, his eyes would be rolling in desperation. Whatever patience he has left is rapidly waning: the damp spots on the sheets from his dripping precum are proof of that.

There’s nothing like a little teasing to remind him of what he doesn’t have. Smirking, I rub his back until I can casually start to dip lower, parting his cute little ass cheeks. His balls have already started to retract, poor Juley, tightening in his sac so they barely move when I lean in and lick a long stripe along his taint. He jerks, like I expect him to, when my tongue passes over his asshole, but I don’t linger. A loud grunt of frustration, mingled with ever-mounting desire, meets my ears when I reemerge, and I keep my thumbs moving in circles tantalizingly close to where he wants me, but not close enough.

“Rey, please!” he tries again. He looks over his shoulder at me this time, face blotchy with suppressed howls and tears leaking from the corners of his wide, pleading eyes. “I’ll do anything you want! Wh-what do you need me to do?” He thinks for a moment, curling his toes as he tries to ignore the push and recede of my massaging hands. “D-d-dishes for a month? A year? The rest of our lives?”

I laugh. It’s tempting, but I don’t hate doing dishes _that_ much.

“I’ll get my nipples pierced!”

“That would be more for you than for me, wouldn’t it, lovely?”

“Mm!”

“You’re on the right track, though.”

His eyelids flutter as I tickle the rim of his hole with my finger. “I’ll— I’ll— oh!”

Our gazes lock and without a word, he flops onto the bed and rolls over, inviting me to settle on his chest. Chuckling, I crawl up his body and make myself comfortable, my wide thighs on either side of him, knees tucked into his underarms. He grins in relief and blinks dazedly at me, hands like sea stars open and white on my hips.

“Sit on me?” he asks, fingers drumming anxiously against my skin. His abdomen contracts in anticipation.

“Where should I sit?” I know perfectly well where he wants me to sit, but he needs to ask properly. Good communication is the foundation of our relationship.

Julian licks his lips and lets out his breath in a stuttering sigh. “Sit on my face, please! Let me be good for you!"

That’s what I was waiting for. We rearrange so I’m kneeling over him with his arms wrapped around my legs, ready to hold me down or lift me up as required. He’ll wait for the last possible moment to break for air; in fact, he’s passed out more than once. The third or fourth time we tried this, I was almost convinced I’d broken his neck before he came to, delighted with himself until he realized how upset I was. We had a nice long discussion about personal limits afterwards, so I was aware of that particular outcome repeating itself next time it happened. And the next time after that. He just loves to smother himself in me so much, he told me with his trademark grin, sometimes he simply won’t stop.

I tousle his hair and let him knock his forehead against my palm before he fills his lungs and reels me in, tightening his grasp to pin me to his face. His quick tongue slides over my sex, nose pressed into my pubic hair and huffing eagerly. He knows exactly where to probe, where to kiss, where to lap, where to suck, even where a couple of nips and gentle tugs with his teeth can turn me into a writhing mess. His strong hands squeeze my belly and hips, trailing up to cup my breasts and down to rub my calves, easily moving me for every breath he needs. I lose count of how many times he makes me cum before he sits up, his mouth and chin glistening with my slick and his own drool. His eyes are almost crossed from the lack of oxygen and the pleasure sweeping through him, but even so he manages to take hold of my wrists and place a line of sloppy kisses on the inside of each one.

“Love you so much,” he slurs, love-drunk, his cock soaked with precum and nearly purple from his long wait. “Yesterday, now, forever.”

“I love you too.” Looking down into his needy eyes, I free one of my hands and trace the faint contour of his five-o’clock shadow along his cheeks and throat. There are scattered gray hairs amongst the auburn, though you have to look hard to see them. I noticed some on his chest last week and saw a long one on his hairbrush yesterday morning. He turned forty this year. I wonder if he ever thought he’d make it this far. I know he never thought he’d be this happy. The five years we've spent together have been better than anything I could've hoped for: as far as I’m concerned, life began the moment he came crashing into my shop.

He grins back hazily. I think I’ve made him suffer enough.

“Okay, ‘Bee, roll over for me. You’ve been so good.”

My words seem to filter slowly into his mind. When they finally connect, he perks right up, turning onto his stomach and rising to his hands and knees again with surprising speed. He even wiggles his hips, doing his best to display himself though he has so little to show that the motion only makes his cock slap against his abdomen. But flat asses can be just as fun as fat ones.

Once again I part his cheeks and lave my tongue across his hole, coating it in saliva. Some of his body hair tries to come along for the ride, but I ignore it; half a decade of sex with Julian has made me immune to any sort of revulsion around that, though it never bothered me much anyway. Besides, getting squeamish over a loose hair or two when you’ve got your mouth on an asshole is a tad hypocritical, or at the very least a misplaced priority, and I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

He’s so tense. From the clinic, not my teasing. I can feel his stress in how tightly he’s clenched. However many orgasms he pulled from me have made me boneless and buzzy, a nice, sweet emptiness where that vicious tangle of nerves used to be. Oh, my poor Jujubee. He works so, so hard. Releasing all this for him really is the least I can do.

Keens and groans fill the room as I slowly begin to trace circles around his anus. Within seconds, he’s pushing back against me, urging me deeper, trying to force my tongue inside him. But I stabilize myself with my arms across his back and he stops, shaking, cursing at the walls in a language I don’t recognize.

Finally, when he does loosen up enough for me to stiffen my tongue and start fucking him with it, he almost screams, shifting his weight to one hand so he can stroke his cock with the other. Catching sight of him, I bat his trembling fingers away and take hold myself, matching the pumps of my fist to the in-and-out of my bobbing head. He’s so hard, so hot. I’m surprised he’s lasted as he long as he has.

But he doesn’t last much longer. Only a couple of minutes pass before he screws all the tension he can muster into his aching muscles and lets everything go at once. He cums hard over his belly, his chest, and the blankets, covering my hand in spend too. His asshole puckers and releases when I draw back and he collapses into a jumble of long limbs as soon as he feels my heat replaced by the cooler air around us. Smiling fondly at his heaving ribs, I pop into the bathroom to rinse my mouth out and grab us some water before laying down on my back next to him, both of us hanging our feet off the side of the bed, though his head almost touches the wall too.

He turns to face me and moves one hand to cup my cheek, a wordless gesture of gratitude and adoration like the love beaming from his eyes isn’t enough. I smile back and kiss his palm, then rest in silence until he breaks it with a squirm and a noise of confusion.

“Why’s the bed wet, darling? That wasn’t me, was it?”

I blink myself out of the peaceful doze I’d fallen into. “Yeah, it was. It’s okay, though.”

“Oh. Erm, sorry about that.” He blushes and tucks his chin behind his forearm.

“I said it was okay, Juley. We’re due to change bedding anyway.”

Regarding me over his elbow, he furrows his brows. “Dare I ask what it is?”

I shrug. “What do you think? You were dripping precum like a faucet and you covered a lot of ground when you came. A _lot_ of ground. You haven’t even taken the time to jerk off, have you?”

“Been too tired for it. Early mornings and late nights, you know. Absolute murder on the libido.”

“Hey.” I stretch out and kiss the tip of his nose then hook my hand behind his head, adjusting him so I can see his face completely. He smiles bashfully but lets me do it. “No more of that, okay? What happened to taking care of yourself? We’re not doing anything at work so critically important that you have to neglect your needs.”

Julian’s eyes flicker as he glances around the room before settling on mine again. “Maybe I’m just angling for some extra attention tonight, hmm?”

“Extra attention?”

His gaze softens and he pushes himself upright, revealing the smears of cum spattered across our bedding. “I think a bath may be in order, dearest. And if I may, I’ll strip the bed so we have nice clean sheets to cuddle up in when we’re done. I should tell you now, though, that I’m feeling especially, ahhh…” he trails off, chewing his lip and eyeing me. “Especially chilled, let’s say, so perhaps an additional blanket? I’ve heard, too, that heated bags of rice can work wonders on cold feet.”

He takes my hands and nuzzles each palm, then folds them between his. “But mostly I just want to lay with you, my love, and feel how soft, how warm you are. You’re so good to me, darling. Let me be good to you too.” He shifts closer and leans down to kiss me tenderly, lingering against my lips. “I, ah. I know this time of year is… rough. Now more than ever, since we’re both stuck in the clinic all day. But I’ll close it down for Chanukah in just a few weeks and until then, well, having you is the best medicine for whatever ails me. I should know.” He winks. “After all, I _am_ a doctor.”


End file.
